Before The Run
by CherryBoyWriter
Summary: In the ever long pursuit of money, glory, and ruining someone's day don't forget all characters are human. Before The Run is just collection of some short prologues showing what some of the characters might be up to before they scoure the net. I also post on Wattpad under CherryBoyWriter as well.


"Hehe... Ahahaha..."

Bernice Mai gave a chuckle. Not the kind given as a courtesy at those despicable networking parties she attended to get her first internship at NBN. Nor the kind she gave back when she had to exist as a vignette to Jackson's antics. This hearty laugh was of earnest intent.

Under her own spotlight she gave a twirl. Her brown hair accentuating fluidity of her movements, on a dime her finger stopped. Perfectly on one of the dozens of screens lining the air around her. An audible ping resounded as the screen enlarged and warnings and danger signs blared. A runner attacking HQ. Non too subtly either. They came crashing in packing an Eater and credits to hammer through the thin ice over at the CtM HQ.

"Amateur. Honestly now."

The runner made it in. Perhaps even felt a smug sense of self satisfaction in adding some information to his Datasucker.

In fifteen seconds the trace was fired through cyberspace. Pumped accordingly to be out of the runners range. Just enough however. While overwhelming this invader would have been a cathartic way of sending the message Bernice felt brute force was unnecessary. Not too mention inelegant bordering on uncouth.

In eighteen seconds the trace was finished and a tag landed. Four more mini screens opened unceremoniously in front of Bernice. And in twelve more seconds she knew everything about this runner's history from age fourteen. Nicolas Swai age twenty seven. Works as a part-timer at the Cheese Wheel, not too far off from her location no less. Is an avid blogger on the Fetcher Forums, Whatever those are.

Judging by his bank statements, forum posts, message records to his friend, and taste in trashy metal music. Bernice came the hasty and entirely accurate conclusion that Nicolas had been preparing his big debut and aiming to get in with the filthy 'narch crowd. Perhaps this was his attempt at "flexing" and he was looking to gain some connections by showing he could ram raid his way into one of NBN's most notorious megacorps. So that one day he could make it big and maybe move out of his mother's basement. Or as she rationalized it out in the plainest of words...

 _He's just another loser._

In another thirty four seconds she had left a voice message for the boys upstairs that played out as such. "I tagged our boy for you guys. Just a rookie, no harm done here. Collect the money from the campaigns. Check up on the startups. And then hit him hard on the newscast. I'm feeling generous today. Although if he's a persistent little shit then feel free to close his accounts. Same as always. Buh-byeeee!" Summarily closing the windows related to this incident it took Bernice point five seconds to determine she was hungry.

Then another seven to order a pizza from the local Cheese Wheel.

With a second grandiose twirl she flicked her fingers too and fro with the dexterity of a world renowned pianist. Organizing the tabs of news streams, security camera feeds, and closing that one shopping tab of the green dinosaur plushie she wanted to liven up her bedroom. All things done she gave a weighty sigh and snapped her fingers twice. Having received the custom added command the work space powered down and entered sleep mode.

It all went dark save for the dim lights that lined the ceiling. Turning and strolling over to the door that slid open automatically a mechanical voice said, "Please enjoy your lunch break Ms. Mai." She took notice of the voice as always but hadn't bothered to respond since her first week after the promotion here. After stepping outside the door a large green hologram screen sprawled across the room. A few PAD commands later the screen read "00h 30m 00s 00". Bernice strolled down the hall as the door shut unceremoniously. The timer began ticking down.

On the seventh floor of the building, third door down from the water cooler. A room plated with her name was the quiet sanctity she sought from the ever buzzing atmosphere that was the NBN work environment. On the inside was a decorated space that to some blurred lines of adulthood and adolescence. Plushies in almost every corner (even some under the work desk). One giant monster plush that functioned both as a beanbag chair and a bed that one time Gabriel Santiago strolled in and made a mess of the HQ servers. A stressful Tuesday of there ever was one.

With a deep, unreserved inhale she let out a gratifying holler and plopped down onto the monster plush. Gazing around her new space private only three words lingered in her head.

 _I made it._

No more kissing corporate ass at parties to prove she was capable of being an asset to the name. No more of that thin line mindset thrust upon her title as a sysop. At one point Bernice enjoyed a cushy and fine job over at the main headquarters. It was a laborious life. Tagging poor saps, having the fine folks Weyland send them death threats, then hopping in her hopper for wine and cheese. However, as fondly as she looks back on the fondue parties with friends she never forgot the weight thrust over head back then. That dreadful atmosphere of "fail and fired" occasionally kept her up at night. She'd play the worst case scenario in her head over and over again. Usually while humming a tune over the stove making breakfast writing it off as a bad dream. This "bad dream" of hers never actually came true. What did come true was a nightmare.

It all happened in a flash. Some amped up bitch ripped her way into HQ. Just a simple Megabuy employee looking to shred a server that just so happened to be the one Bernice was assigned to. The instant they were in Bernice tried to do her usual thing but everything went to hell immediately. They started wantonly destroying everything they could find. It didn't even matter what it was. Random packets of data? Entire vital corporate files for the future? David's hidden folder of cat videos? All that and more.

Everyone, including Bernice, was in a frenzy. Powerless to do a thing as heavy punk music was the ambient music to coworkers resigning themselves to layoffs. The memory itself worked her blood into a boil.

Bernice navigated her way to the her saved casts file on her PAD and sent the video clip to the screen on the opposite wall. An announcer began speaking over saying something or other. She had never once bothered to register the background noise. On screen was the runner that wrecked her career. Clad in night robe on the deck of her porch. Flipping off the cameras as Carol's fat cat lept and took swipes. Bernice had saved this cast after finding it while slumming it in a low ranking archives job. Seeing that rainbow haired harlot being shamed worldwide at was likely the most cathartic experience of her life. Now whenever she felt low, or needed a giggle, or was bored on a Wednesday evening (which was *every* Wednesday evening) on went the cast and up went her mood. However just as dear old Carol was about to bolt to her Qianju PT the screen halted to bring a video chat request.

The initial reaction to someone interrupting your lunch break is usually a minor headache and a new found love for the simple perfection of a baseball bat. Bernice was no exception from this reaction herself but mentally recoiled when she saw the name of the caller.

 _Crap, crap, crap._

With all promptness she got up fixed her hair and outfit (neither were particularly ruffled). Attempted to look as professional as possible in this ridiculous room. After a few composing breaths she answered the call.

"Good evening Ms. Jenkins! I wasn't expecting a call from you."

"It would happen to be the afternoon, Ms. Mai." Although Bernice had attempted to not let her nervousness show this was already off to a bad start. Her fingers began fidgeting at her side. Victoria Jenkins' oppressive presence was in no way helped her authoritative voice.

"Apologizes for the short notice call. I am sure you are still growing accustomed to your new promotion. Are you currently doing anything?"

"Oh no ma'am. Nothing in particular. I had just clocked out for my lunch." Bernice couldn't have helped feeling like she just made another mistake. Should have made it sound like she was doing some private studies to keep up the air professionalism.

*Ugh... now I just look lazy.* Was the only thought in mind as the NBN executive looked down upon her. Sipping from a small water glass with inquisitive daggers for eyes.

"Ah yes, well. I suppose nothing is the best non-particular thing to do." Victoria replied setting aside the glass and letting out a refreshed breath. Bernice had no idea what to make of that last sentence. It went over head like a new model hopper. Though no one was aware of it. Victoria Jenkins' image consultant had recommended she attempt to be more personable with coworkers. So every now again Victoria attempted a joke. That more often than not failed due to her dry sense of humour.

"Well um, I suppose that is true." This was going off the rails fast she thought. "That seems to have been a very refreshing glass of water Ms. Jenkins. Refined from a spring perhaps?"

"It was gin."

 _Oh._

"How are you finding the interface we made for you? I had them tailor it to cater to your skill set." Bernice assumed she was talking about the hologram room she had just left. What else could she be mentioning?

"It wonderful! I haven't had the pleasure of using something that good in a long time. How did you manage to create it to be that fast?" Bernice asked with a lively vigor.

"How? Because we built it. How else?"

"Hah-haha. That's a very funny joke ma'am."

"Joke?"

There was a moments silence. The purpose of which was lost on Victoria as she moved on.

"I would rather not take up too much of your lunch break. So let me skip to the point. I was calling to check up on the project I had you assigned too."

"You mean the virtual tour of Mumbad for the executives? I had researched some points of interest. The Sensie Actors Union, and perhaps even the Bio-Ethics Association for those that may be interested. But this kind of this was never my expertise. I was a bit surprised when you asked me actually..."

"You were a recommendation by our mutual friend Mr. Howard. His testimony was something we considered when we promoted you." Hearing that name again made Bernice swirl her tongue around in her mouth to try to remove the spit from her palate.

"I wouldn't particularly call us friends. We just worked together for a time."

"Really now? I would have guessed otherwise judging by his myriad of gifts." Victoria's finger pointed specifically to the giant bed plushy which still an imprint on it. Bernice could feel the blood rushing to her face with indignation. She noticed after all.

After the incident that caused her to be demoted that hop around from low tier job to archive duty and back, someone took notice of her skill set had offered a position. NBN's golden boy of sorts, the magnanimous Jackson Howard. For close to a year she was effectively Jackson's secretary. She had no choice other than to put up bad jokes and his "synthetic sugar" like grin. A grin so sweet that it leapt right into the other trough of the uncanny valley.

What bothered her most of all was that Jackson would always impose upon her gifts. Sometimes toys, but mostly plushies. She never got why either. She never had a particular affection for the things after she left Levy University. Then again... many thing changed for her after leaving Levy. She remember being entirely ready to face the world after that place. She always walked around with a go getter attitude and an amiable personality. As she would soon learn however, the world wouldn't reflect her enthusiasm. So after her promotion her attitude was much more devil-may-care.

One day she was fiddling with a toy Jackson had gave her. Obviously only because she had a hangover and was feeling low at work. The toy broke and Jackson took notice when he haphazardly strolled into the break room. Before she even had a chance to apologize for breaking a test model Jackson had said, "Ah well I'll get you a new one. We have plenty more."

Out of curiosity (and while trying very hard to mask her frustration) Bernice asked him. "Why do get me these things?"

"Huh? Jackson looked puzzled as he stood there coffee mug in hand. But even that "puzzled" face of his could be described as no more than flippant. "Do you not like them?"

"No. Well not particularly."

"Well that's why then!" And that synthetic grin stretched ear to ear again.

She never figured out what that meant. It didn't matter anymore though. Those times where distance and almost fleeting memories to her now. She held no real affection for him, the opportunities he gave her, or even these gifts he lined her office with. One could even go as far as to say Bernice hated Jackson Howard.

Strangely, almost vexingly enough, she never got around to throwing these gifts away.

"If he recommended me then I have a standard to live up to then." Bernice said to Victoria attempting to refocus the conversation. "If you don't mind the question. Why does this tour matter so much?"

"It is important to foster interpersonal relationships. A tightly knit group is a strong one." Victoria took another sip of gin and placed the glass back down.

"That's the cover reason anyway. With an event like this we should smoke out some rats. There's no way they could avoid something this tempting. That's where you and the CtM come in. Tag 'em all for me. Consider it a test."

Bernice felt a bit nervous having such a responsibility thrust on her. Her chest felt a bit tight, and her head a bit light. Regardless of that, somewhere in the pit of her stomach felt this was the thrill of a lifetime. No turning away from this.

"And what she we do if we someone particularly troublesome wanders in?" She asked.

"What else? We have Ms. Mills bag 'em of course."

"Bag them huh?"

"Twice. If the need be."

 _The more things change the more they stay the same I suppose._

"Well, I do not want to keep you from you lunch break any longer. If you need any assistance I have already sent you the contact info for a personal friend of mine. His name is Mr. Severn."

"Nero Severn? But isn't he a-"

"What he chooses to do with his free time isn't particularly my concern. Unless of course he ruins one of my assets. By the way. Enjoy your pizza."

The screen closed and shut down. A knock happened at the door almost on cue. An intern had brought up the pizza for her. Placing it on her desk and grabbing a slice with an absent minded a thought occured. Perhaps he should save audio and video log from that call. Then with a laugh she took a bite and came to the immediate conclusion records had been deleted already.

It was only until the bitter saltiness hit her tongue that she realized.

"That's funny. I don't remember ordering anchovies." Then after lunch she returned to the hologram room. The counter only showed about thirty second remaining.

In twenty nine seconds she'd boot up the system again. In fifteen minutes that amateur would have realized the jeopardy his part-time job was in and would possibly come running back here for revenge. In six hours Bernice would be home adorning make up for a late night hang out with friends.

And then she thought, where would she be in three weeks after Mumba Virtual Tour? Where in two months? Where in a year? She didn't know. But with twenty three seconds left on the counter she took solace in the one lesson she did learn from Jackson Howard.

 _Everything is replaceable._

So for now she'd stop worrying. She'd just keep tabs on the world. **One screen at a time.**


End file.
